


Reflections of You and Me

by Mockingbryd



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Developing Friendships, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream is an ass, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends, Eret has trauma :(, Everyone Has Trauma, Found Family, Ghosts, Minor Character Death, Multiple Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), No shipping, Resurrection, but there's growth, except for poly crew but its only minor, post betrayal, post january 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28728210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockingbryd/pseuds/Mockingbryd
Summary: Dream's cursed. He didn't notice it at first, but as time and conflict passed it became something he couldn't hope to avoid. He was haunted by the ghosts of the dead. His friends, his enemies. They wouldn't leave him alone - and yet that's exactly how he had to bear it. Alone. His only weakness was one he couldn't afford to share with others.But things are changing. After the attempted resurrection of Wilbur, there's a shift. The spirits are more aware and they're angry. The only person who can help him? His only remaining ally Eret - the fallen king. Together, they have retrace their paths through lore and lessons to try and put things back the way they were before the dead corrupt the living.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Clay | Dream, Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Ensemble & Eret, Eret & Floris | Fundy, Eret & Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Niki | Nihachu, Eret & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	1. It Was Never Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic and I actually created this account so I could share it! It shouldn't be too graphic, but if I think there are any important things to make notes of in the future I'll put them here. 
> 
> Just for some clarification, the big breaks are switches in POV between Eret and Dream, italics represent ghost dialogue, and they way the ghosts work is that each canon death is represented as they were is death. Hopefully this is clear enough in the story, but I thought I'd add it up here! 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy :)

Eret was met with a smiling face - or rather a smiling facade. He sincerely doubted that beneath the mask the man was smiling. Dream wasn’t known to smile one way or the other, but the fact there was a netherite sword pointed dangerously close to the king lent a clue or two to how the godling felt. 

“What can I do for you,” Eret asked, clenching their jaw slightly. The only time Dream ever came to see them was to discourage some behavior or flaunt power as a reminder - neither of which was desired.

“Did you try to resurrect Wilbur,” there was a quiet rage in his voice that Eret couldn’t quite place. He did pale at the tone though, because Dream still found a way to get under his skin after all this time. 

The king’s mind whirled as he tried to place exactly when Dream would’ve been told about the resurrection because it had been relatively hush-hush, but as quickly as he tried to figure it out he remembered it was pointless. The lord of the server knew exactly what was happening whenever he needed to. 

“Yes. Ghostbur asked us to try and bring him back. Don’t worry it didn’t work,” Eret said turning away from Dream and walking back into the castle.

Now that he was thinking about it, bringing back Wilbur probably would pose a threat to Dream and Techno’s whole anarchy thing. Or maybe it wouldn’t? It was a logistical nightmare as far as Eret was concerned, only further proved by the fact that they had to find a totem of undying to work on the ritual at all. Would Wilbur come back with the memories of Ghostbur, or would he be just as he was in his final moments? What would happen to the remnants of Schlatt? It was a headache. 

The duo came to a stop in the throne room, and the taller of the two resorted to rubbing his temples - it had already been a long day. 

Dream gave a sidewards look at Eret,

“And he’s not going to come back.”

“Well I can’t guarantee that, I mean he might.”

“Listen, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺, he’s not going to come back.”

“You weren’t asking then... you were telling me?”

“I’m glad you understand. Wilbur cannot come back, do you hear me? You think he’s going to be all buddy-buddy with you when he remembers what you’ve done? You think he’s going to look you in your freakish eyes and tell the very man who caused his downfall that he forgives him? Pathetic,” the way Dream said it he practically sneered. Like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world, as if he was chastising a foolishly imaginative child. It brought blood rushing to Eret’s face, the masked figure having voiced the very fears he’d thought during the whole process. 

“So what, you want me to sabotage Phil?”

“Do whatever you need to do. Kill friend, blow the damn shrine up, kill Phil for wither’s sake - just keep things in their natural order. Otherwise, I’ll make sure the only monument people are building is your funeral pyre,” Eret tried to stay as neutral as possible but when Dream stuck a finger square against their chest, they couldn’t hide a frown. 

“Your wish is my command." Now it was the king’s turn to sneer.

Dream seemed for a moment as if he wanted to challenge Eret, dare him to actually say something - but after another moment he seemed to decide against it. Even questioning the possibility of being able to lose control took Eret by surprise. Dream seemed especially volatile today, what about this had bothered him so much?

“I’ll be checking in a couple days from now, just to make sure you've got it handled,” the admin said, throwing the phrase over their shoulder as he turned to make his way out of the castle. 

Practically collapsing on the throne, Eret rested her head in her hands barely catching the crown that rested there. She stared at it for a moment, feeling only rage that had been bottled up. Rage at Dream, at Schlatt, at Technoblade, but mostly herself too. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Eret asked themself, their glasses not quite obscuring the white behind their eyes enough to stop it from reflecting in the gems leaving them with an all too clear reflection of themself. 

Because Eret was stuck with another choice. The same one they continued to face. Friends or fealty. But as they sat alone in their castle, stained glass attempting to cast a cheery mood on the otherwise lonely atmosphere, Eret realized they couldn’t keep getting it wrong. In a sense of defiance that would surely disappear as quickly as it came, he flung the crown from his hands and it hit the wall with a bang. It didn’t do anything, not really, but it was enough. It was symbolic. It was a start. 

-^-

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥.”

“𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.”

“𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮.”

“𝘔𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘴.”

“Can all of you shut up for two seconds please,” Dream said, spinning to look at the figures who trailed behind him. George and primary Quackity weren’t a surprise, but the additions of Fundy and primary Tubbo were just giving him a headache and an impending sense of paranoia. 

It could be worse. It could be Sapnap. Or secondary Quackity - who the mere thought of made Dream squirm. 

But, he did need to get rid of them if he was going to get anything done. For Fundy and Tubbo, he just told them there was an issue with L’manburg, and while their beloved nation was now nothing more than a crater in the ground they could never quite seem to remember that. Their loyalty to that fighting cause was as strong as ever - even in death, as annoying as it was. 

And George? George was just needy. It had been endearing and a nice change compared to all the vindictive spirits when he’d first appeared, but now? Now it was just an inconvenience. Most days it was enough to give him some ‘important’ task in the name of kingly duties, today including, which Dream thanked prime for.  
Now all that was left was Quackity. 

But maybe this Alex could be useful? 

“What would you have suggested I do?” The godling asked curiously

He saw the apparition’s wings twitch, a nervous gesture he had learned to spot. While Dream waited for Alex to answer, he removed his mask and wiped along his face. 

The panic attack had hit him harder than it ever had before. Normally it was just a sense of dread whenever anyone died - but a resurrection? That was unheard of. To disrupt the natural order of things? It had quite literally left Dream breathless, unable to think straight. He was fortunate he had been alone, how else was he supposed to explain that? Dream’s only weakness, the only thing he couldn’t totally control - death itself.

“𝘖𝘶𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.”

“Eret doesn’t listen otherwise. Their power comes from me, they need to know it.”

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘉𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵?” the smaller figure asked thoughtfully.

Dream looked at him incredulously for a moment before giving a sharp laugh. Not at what was said, but the absurdity of it all. The only friends he had were memories of the past, wretched echoes of the voices still speaking today. Ones that couldn’t remember. Couldn’t understand. Couldn’t even get an idiom right. 

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭. 𝘎𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮.”

“And tell him what? That I get pitted into a panic every time Ghostbur gets too corporeal, leaving me totally defenseless,” Dream asked, lifting an eyebrow.  
Quackity shifted under the weight of his gaze, seemingly unsure of how to answer. 

“𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥,” Quackity said with a small shrug, occupying themselves with fixing their suit so they didn’t have to meet Dream in the eye. 

He wasn’t fond about how this variant of Alex always aired on the side of caution, but he was also smart enough to see the reason behind it. 

The figure groaned and looked at the mask that was held in his hands. A symbol that had come to strike fear into enemies and allies alike, so much so that it almost acted like another curse. Of course, Dream knew his antagonizing personality was more to blame than the mask he wore - but it was nice to pretend. Pretend what drove everyone away could easily be shed, instead of existing inside of him. 

“How is it out of everyone and every life, you ended up being the most helpful to me, Alex?”

“𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.”

Dream shot the winged spirit a crooked smile before he slipped the porcelain visage, and with it the impenetrable exterior. 

Turning his green gaze towards the stone castle, Dream decided he was going to give the king one of the rarest gifts of all. An apology.

-^-

Eret really hadn't gotten very much time to think. After their sudden decision to, in essence, say a giant “fuck you” to Dream, they were left in nothing short of a spiral. They couldn't stay. No. If they did, they'd lose their nerve. 

But who would take them? L’manburg didn’t exist anymore, merely a memory now. Nikki and her bakery were gone, Fundy also seemed to show up less and less around town - not to mention the fact that the last time Eret had seen Tommy was when the smell of gunpowder still hung in the air. Maybe he could find a place with Tubbo? No. The kid had been through enough, Eret couldn’t bear the thought of bringing any more of Dream’s wrath upon him. There was no home for him with Technoblade, Ranboo, or Phil that had been made abundantly clear. 

“There’s always Puffy,” and with that Eret decided he would shelter with his knight - or at this point, he supposed his former knight.   
Shrugging off the blood-red cape that had hung on his shoulders since the day of his betrayal, he let it fall to the ground. Taking a deep breath, he stared down at the crown and walked over to pick it up. Gilded cages were still cages. Part of them wanted to melt it down, just get rid of the damn thing. Instead, Eret simply placed it on the throne - a message that hhe was done. 

It was freeing and absolutely fucking terrifying. They’d been weighed down under Dream’s iron grip for so long, now that they had shed it they had no idea what to do.   
A joyful laugh burst from Eret as they ran a hand through their hair in almost disbelief. It had been on edge of their mind for so long. Eret had dreamed of this moment, and yet they’d never been able to commit. 

But thinking about Ghostbur - the remnants of a man who’d given every part of himself away until there was nothing left. Who’s downfall Eret had inadvertently begun. Not to mention Fundy … no. It was time to finally make the right decision. 

The king had never really been neutral, but hiding under the guise that came with claiming that he was had only ever hurt him. 

Rummaging through his chests, Eret looked for the go-pack he had made. It was in case there was a need for a quick getaway, and after getting dethroned in favor of George, once Eret had been reinstated he decided it would be a good idea to have it just in case. 

Grabbing that as well as a couple extra materials, Eret prepared to leave. While they didn’t have their own horse, they probably didn’t need one to get to Puffy’s as long as they were careful. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind too much, although Eret doubted it. It helped to have an old friend - probably the only one still left. Well, Hbomb too although they weren’t around the castle much these days. 

Eret stood at the entrance of the very home he’d built with his own hands. He’d put his hopes and dreams into every brick. Maybe if things had been different he’d have been a good king instead of simply a figurehead for Dream to exact his power.

For now, though, there was no time to dwell and so the former king walked down the steps they’d gone down every day for years but this time felt different. It felt new.   
Eret turned to look at the castle, maybe for the last time in a while. A minute or so passed before they were joined by another figure. 

“𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰, 𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘵. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶,” the willowy voice asked him. 

“I’m good Ghostbur, how about you,” she responded, turning to give him her attention. 

“𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?”

Eret tilted their head trying to decide if Wilbur was purposefully dodging their question, or just had found it unnecessary. While not a ghost, Eret could imagine it would be disappointing to have a failed resurrection. Still - they decided it would be best not to push it.

“I gave up the crown actually. I’m moving I guess you could say.”

A pause, then, “𝘐’𝘮 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺.”

“Thank you Ghostbur. If you see Phil, tell him I’ll be looking for maps and trying to figure out where to find a totem.”

Giving Wilbur a small wave goodbye, Eret began to walk. They had a lot of ground to cover and with minimal armor and the setting sun it would be best to move quickly.

“𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯?”

A chill crawled its way up Eret’s spin as he turned to face the ghost, his confusion evident. 

“𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳?” It was not the same voice that had spoken moments earlier. It was deeper, rougher, and held far more vitriol than Ghostbur could ever muster. 

“Wilbur? But that's not possible … the resurrection didn’t work,” Eret said, taking a step forward. 

Whichever version they were talking to, nothing on the outside had physically changed. Still the same cheery yellow sweater, beanie, and translucent body. 

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦.”

Eret's frown deepened as he realized they had been partially wrong about his observation of everything staying the same. Wilbur seemed alarmingly solid for a dead person which was becoming abundantly more clear as he advanced.

Now is when Eret began to back up, they didn’t have on their usual armor which made them impenetrable - instead, it was something they’d simply thrown on at the last minute.

“𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘵?”

She weighed her options on how to answer their question, and whether to just shelve the conversation and get the hell out of dodge.   
Now was as good a time as any to learn how to stand your ground. Plus, she helped bring Wilbur back (was he back now? Or was this some sort of in-between?) so that had to count for something. 

“No.”

“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦.”

And now Eret was wishing they had taken the chance to run because this is the second time today that they had a sword pointed at them except now there was far more intent behind it. 

Swallowing thickly and raising his hands in surrender. If it was just Wilbur left in there he was fucked, but if Ghostbur was there too it was a possibility he could bring him back out. Or even Schlatt at this point - either were far preferred over this version. 

“Where’s Friend, Wilbur?”

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵,” he snapped. 

Maybe it was a trick of the eyes or wishful thinking but Eret swore they saw faltering. 

“You don’t remember Friend? I think they may be back at the shrine.”

Confusion edged its way, helping to cover the absolute fury. It wasn’t much, but at this point, he would take it.

As quickly as the beacon of hope lit, it was just as quickly extinguished. The sword moved to now be situated against their neck as Wilbur realized what they were trying to do.

“Would you like some blue?” Eret asked softly.

The other man stumbled back, the sword he’d been holding clattered to the ground.

“𝘎𝘰 𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘵,” Ghostbur’s voice returned, a sense of urgency present that Eret had never heard from him before. 

“What’s going on?”

“𝘎𝘰. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

Deciding not to push his luck, Eret turned and began to run but as he did an arrow caught him in the leg causing him to cry out and stumble and crash to the ground.

The sunglasses flew off his face, and his hand flew to shield his face. The sudden attack on something so sensitive left tears welling in his eyes.

“Where the hell did Wilbur get a bow so fast?” They asked themself out loud trying to squint and clear their vision. 

But instead of the yellow-clad figure standing triumphantly with a bow in hand, the only thing the man saw was Wilbur get struck as well - a far more lethal arrow piercing his heart. 

It was far too early for skeletons to be out, and they could never have made a shot that accurate … so that begged the question of who else was around. 

Putting that in the back of their mind for a moment, Eret haphazardly moved their hands trying to locate their glasses so they could see their death should it be coming for them. Finding them after a couple moments, Eret put them on quickly and relished in the relief they provided. The left frame was partially missing, but they could deal with it for now. 

Slowly bringing himself to his feet, Eret turned to face whatever had brought the two of them down and was met only with that damn smile. 

“You shot me,” Eret asked incredulously, throwing their hands in the air, although wavering at the sudden movement. 

“You deserve worse for whatever stunt you were thinking of pulling,” Dream snapped back, gesturing at the spilled goods that had been forgotten in the fight. 

“I’m done Dream. Find a new king - or blow the damned castle to kingdom come. I don’t care anymore,” he said with a small shake of his head before attempting to push past Dream - but the admin gripped his wrist. 

“You’re pathetic,” the tone echoed the very one Wilbur had used against him. 

Eret prepared to spit back some retort that showed all that anger that had been holed up inside him, however, a figure in the corner of his vision caused the words to die in his throat.

It was Alex. But it wasn’t. At least not the Alex that Eret remembered seeing just the other day - no - this one was younger and wearing a suit. The only distinction that something was wrong was blood staining the shirt and an ugly scar carving it’s way up the side of his neck. 

Quackity hadn’t looked like that since... well since when Schlatt was President. Apprehension twisted in their gut as they could finally place why this outfit looked so familiar. It was from the festival. 

Dream followed Eret’s line of sight, tilting their head slightly.

“What are you looking at?”

“You mean you can’t see him?”

“You can?” the genuine surprise in Dream’s voice took the former king incredibly off guard, having never heard it come from him before. 

“You mean this is normal for you?”

But Eret didn’t get an answer because the other man was seemingly at a loss for words. 

The figure at the edge of his vision shifted again, and it was still Alex but from a much different time. A torn and bloodied butcher's outfit hung loosely from his figure, dirt smearing his face and hands. That wasn’t the most worrying part, no, it was the tip of a pickaxe hooked through his jaw. 

Dream dropped Eret’s wrist and took a step back. If Eret hadn’t known any better, he would say Dream was scared. No, not just scared, terrified - but that would be absurd. 

“Dream…?”

Pulling Eret behind himself and attempting to support him, Dream reached for the sword that hung out of his waist and unsheathed it. 

“If I have any idea about what might be happening, I’m about to have a lot of problems - and if you can see them, you are too,” the admin said softly as if speaking in a tone too loud would cause Quackity to advance.

“I need you to trust me.”

Eret gave a small nod, and Dream shoved a pearl into his hand. 

“Go to Pogtopia, I know you know how to get there. I’ll meet you in a couple minutes.”

Eret looked at the pearl and looked back up at Dream, trying to ignore the whiplash he was getting from the change in tone. What in wither's name was going on?  
Still, Dream seemed to have far more experience in this area than he did - and at this point, he was willing to risk it. Anger and his freedom would have to take a temporary pause. 

“Eret. 𝘎𝘰.”

With that Eret, threw the pearl in the Pogtopia’s direction and prayed to prime it wouldn’t break right away. While it took him a couple tries, eventually he made it and slumped into the bed that had long been forgotten. How long had it been since he had been here? And why had Dream chosen this as their apparent sanctuary? But for answers Eret needed to wait. So they waited. And waited. And waited. And as the moon settled at its place in the middle there was only one question Eret wanted to ask now...

Where was Dream?


	2. What Doesn't kill You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream learns more about his new situation and the state of the server. Tensions are running high with everyone around him, and emotions are display like they have never been allowed to be before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for suicidal ideation at the very end, but it's pretty brief. 
> 
> Also thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter, that's really what got my ass to write this chapter and get it up. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys! We definitely get some nice character development there at the very end.

Dream watched Eret leave, feeling himself grow more confident now that he didn’t have to deal with a weakness. Not that Eret couldn’t fight, no, he was all too aware of the King’s ability from having fought against him, but now all he had to worry about was himself. 

Dream’s gaze swung back to secondary Alex. The unfortunate development that came from the Butcher Army’s failed plot. He hated that the bird-brained fool scared him in death, but something about the pure and unassuaged hatred that burned behind Quackity’s eyes made Dream’s instincts scream run. It wasn’t that he thought he would lose to the ghost, he more so feared he would just freeze. That seemed impossible - but it had happened before. Like when he’d first dealt with the deaths from the Final Control room, the emotions had been so overwhelming they’d in essence - short-circuited his brain. He just froze. They’d only been on their first deaths then, the hits hadn’t hurt. But now? This Quackity would be a different level. More dead and far angrier - more intense. 

Unsheathing the netherite sword that hung from his waist Dream shifted almost imperceptibly.

“What do you want?”

“ _ Blood.” _

“Not mine. Techno’s. He’s not here Alex.”

There was a pause as if the spirit seemed to consider sparing the admin. But Dream’s attempt at diversion didn’t work, at least not as intended.

“ _ But you are. And you started all this. The root of all problems. Sapnap agrees, don’t you dear,” _ Quackity said with a smile although it almost looked more like he was baring his teeth. A figure came in Dream’s field of vision, a blood soaked-version of one of his best friends. He had taken Sapnap’s first life during the battle of the lakes and now a twisted and angry version of the person he knew so well haunted him. This situation was growing decidedly worse, and Dream almost wished he had kept Eret as backup or maybe even a sacrifice. 

“Maybe. But do you really want to watch me put another sword through your fiance? I can beat the both of you with my eyes closed. Don’t pick fights you can’t win duckling,” the admin said with a slight tilt of his head. The confidence came naturally, even when he was feeling unsteady. It wasn’t exactly a lie though, he probably could beat the both of them - it just wouldn’t be pretty.

The comment seemed to hit Alex, and caused him to momentarily pause again. Almost as if his care for Sapnap outweighed his anger - even in their current states.  _ Interesting. _ He’d have to remember that. 

“If you really want revenge, I heard Phil’s walking around. No better way to hurt Techno then take his father’s only life,” the godling said with almost a bored shrug. The indifferent tone he was using hid the calculating look behind the mask.

Contrary to popular belief, Dream didn’t get off on bloodshed. He avoided it as much as possible, finding intellectual flexes of power to be far more satisfying.

Alex stared at Dream before grabbing Sapnap and disappearing. Gone. For now. Once they realized he was lying, he’d be out of luck. Hopefully the admin would be in Pogtopia by then, one of the last places either of them would think to look. Picking up the pace and beginning to head down the prime path as fast as possible, Dream kept his eyes open for any more stray spirits. 

He didn’t make it very far down the path, before a frantic Fundy approached him. Had it been anyone but his former fiance he wouldn’t have stopped - but the panic in the fox’s eyes gave him pause for just a moment.

“Dream - something’s happening to me, I can’t” his voice cracked for a moment before he took a step back and clutched his face. 

“Fundy? Fundy what’s wrong,” the admin asked quickly - his hand flexing in an attempt to keep the panic from bleeding into his voice. The more minutes that passed, the more his carefully accumulated control seemed to slip. His brain was split, one side telling him just to leave and find Eret before he got caught up in anything else. The other side? Screaming for him not to forget his humanity and help one of the people who was - or had been - so important to him. 

“I’m back there.”

“What?”

“The final control room. I can’t breathe Dream,” Fundy responded with panicked breaths. His eyes were wild, and he seemed to frantically be looking around. 

“When did this start?”

“A little while ago. All of the sudden I was taken over like I couldn’t think past it. I was overwhelmed with it and it's not getting better. My head feels like it's splitting,” 

Pulling the fox hybrid into a tight hug, trying to ground him - Dream could no longer distract himself from the panic twisting in his stomach. Those symptoms sounded all too similar to the ones he experienced whenever someone died. But Fundy shouldn’t be able to feel that. Fundy should have no clue a form of him exists. But it sounded like it was affecting him no matter what he knew and what he didn’t. This suddenly became more urgent. Now it wasn’t just a matter of Dream’s control - it was a matter of every single person’s livelihood. If Fundy was having trouble dealing with just one spirit’s memories he couldn’t imagine how Tubbo, Tommy, or Quackity for that matter. 

“Listen, Fundy. I’m going to leave, but I promise I’ll fix you. I’ll help,” Dream said, taking a step back. His former partner gripped at his arm, and the godling had to pry himself away - continuing quickly back down the prime path with his mind now whirling. 

He heard yelling and screaming in the distance, but kept going. He was back to being glad he’d gotten Eret out of here. Few had more enemies than himself, but the king was one of them. Eret had led the most devastating attack of the first war, that paired with the fact it was a betrayal - well it left for a lot of angry ghosts. 

Nearing the community house, the admin slowed - hearing a lot of movement. Of course, the one last place he needed to stop was the place that would be the most populated. Drawing his mask down for a moment to try and clear his vision, Dream swallowed nervously.

Quackity and Karl were occupying the house. Both were hunched together on the stairs. Karl’s face was buried in his fiance’s shoulder, and Alex stared ahead blankly. 

It was clear that he wouldn’t have to deal with the phantom he feared - but with real life Alex having their memories, he would be just as much of a risk. 

Maybe he could skip picking up extra resources?  _ No.  _ No. He was the strongest person on the server. He was part god and no simple ghosts or rogue memories would stop him. He had not fought all of this time just to let fear make him weak. He was better than that, he had become better than that. His anger at Eret had made him weak, and the earlier resurrection had left him unstable - but that was no excuse. If he had to kill anyone who stood in his way to show that he should still be feared - it would have to happen. Some situations called for minimal bloodshed, but this had now turned into a situation where a violent flex of power no matter how machiavellian it seemed, would be necessary. 

Dream hand hovered over his sword, trying to decide whether to preemptively draw it - but decided after another moment to wait. There was a line between prepared and overzealous, one he needed to make sure he didn’t cross. 

Steadying himself mentally, he walked and reached for the handle and slowly pulled open the door. His gaze met Alex’s, but the smaller man’s eyes seemed to be somewhere else - somewhere far away. Letting out a breath Dream wasn’t aware he’d actually been holding, he continued off to a chest tucked in the corner. 

Sparing one more look over his shoulder, he opened it and began to rummage through it. The potion bottles clinked together quite loudly and he wrapped them before sticking them in a bag slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what the brewing situation would be like in the former revolution’s refuge, but he did know he was no alchemist like Bad was. Better to be safe than sorry, especially with an unprecedented event like this one going on - and health potions had saved his life far more times then he could afford to count. 

Dream had practically made it out the door before a voice stopped him. It was Karl’s. Rougher - like he had been crying.

“I thought you said it wouldn’t count.”

“What are you talking about Karl?

“My life. When we made that deal for El Rapids. I thought you said that death wouldn’t count,” he said sitting up and looking over his shoulder at Dream. Anger had edged its way into his tone - Karl’s usually warm eyes had a colder look to them. 

“I don’t have any control over what counts and what doesn’t. I’m sorry. I really have to go - just for a bit, when I come back we can talk about it,” the admin said, turning to look at him. He took another step backwards, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“ _ You promised.” _

A heavily scarred Karl stood behind him, the bright sweater that usually adorned him was now tattered and dirty. The grip on his shoulder tightened to the point where the spirits nails were digging into his skin. Karl shouldn’t have this much power for a first life spirit - it must be the proximity. Dream had come so close to getting away without incident. So close. 

“Ok fine. I can fix it right now. Come here,” the godling said gesturing. 

His nose twitched, a nervous habit he’d picked up - one he was glad the mask covered. Dream decided if he would be able to get away from this unscathed, he would take a break. He could feel his luck running thin, and he would prefer to be as far out of the graveyard the SMP had become when that happened.

“But you just said you couldn't control it.”

“I’m a liar Karl, that’s what I do. Do you know what kind of hell I would have to face from every single person if they knew I could save them? I really need to get going so this is your only chance,” he said feigning nonchalance. The latter bit really was true as he watched the sun set. Eret no doubt would be there by now, and since Dream would now have to get there on foot - it would be midnight by the time he got anywhere close.

The alive version of Karl glanced over at Quackity for some sort of guidance, and they murmured to one another quietly. Eventually Karl got up from his place on the steps and made his way over to the masked man. The ghost version of him that was located behind Dream loosened their grip and took a step back - a gesture which the godling was incredibly grateful for. 

Stepping forward and brushing Karl’s hair out of his face, Dream pressed his palm to his forehead. It even shocked him how gentle the gesture had been, but after a moment he withdrew it. 

“What’s wrong?” 

The only response was a small tilt of a head, perhaps a nonverbal ‘I’m sorry’, and without another sound Dream brought his hand down on Karl’s head - not quite hard enough to leave him unconscious but definitely staggering him. 

The other ghost seemed temporarily stunned as well, which shouldn't have happened. It would almost appear as if the connection between the dead and the living was far stronger then it had been previously but looking back Dream supposed that should be obvious.

Still, he decided not to ponder on it too long - and instead took his chance. 

Running off into the night, he hoped Eret hadn’t given up on him. If he was going to fix this and bring things back to normal, he definitely wouldn’t be able to do it alone. 

-^-

“Where in Prime’s name have you been,” the fallen king practically snarled, getting up from the bed where they’d been seated. 

“I caught some trouble, well not some - a significant amount of trouble, on my way here,” the godling said absent-mindedly removing the porcelain mask. 

“I was about to head back and get your ass, half expecting to find you dead on the path,” she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why would you come back for me, I thought you were done?”

The question seemed to give Eret pause whether it was because the question further annoyed them or because they didn’t know the answer - Dream wasn’t sure. 

“I think you enjoy your castle, getting to sit pretty on your throne. You like being told what to do don’t you,” Dream said with a dry laugh. He’d gone too long today feeling like he didn’t have the upper hand and now that he knew he did, he would make sure that Eret knew it too. After all, the king didn’t know how dire the circumstance was yet.

The comment exacted the desired reaction from the man, and he stalked forward slamming Dream up against the dirt wall. It was an action he allowed - more curious than anything to see where it was going. One thing Eret and Dream had in common was that they were both generally very composed people on the outside - so this day of emotional volatility was new to both of them. 

“I do not live by your grace Dream. You may have helped me but I’m here purely out of courtesy - something you’ve barely earned. If I had half my wits about me I would stab you and get the hell out of here. But you owe me answers, because somethings going on and I expect you know what it is.”

From their close proximity the admin could see the glow of her eyes. It was a feature he’d wished she hadn’t covered up during her reign. It struck fear into the hearts of others, which was very useful and exactly why she had covered it up he expected. Dream almost pointed out the contradiction of their statement, but thought better of it. A sudden exhaustion dragged at him as his green eyes flickered over to the bed off in the corner. He doubted he would be allowed to rest until he gave Eret their so called answers. Resting a palm against Eret’s chest, he pushed them away - more as a warning than anything else and despite all the game Eret talked he listened to it obediently. Instead Eret, taking a seat on the edge of the crafting table, and watching him intently with a frown. 

“I’ve been able to see the ghosts -er- spirits, whatever you want to call them, ever since they’ve been around. When someone dies they lose one of three lives. You know that part. What you don’t know, is that essentially you’re frozen as you are that moment of your death and that part of you walks around aimlessly. I see that version of everyone. Tommy’s got two extra of him, Quackity too. It’s a curse,” Dream said brushing away his hair from his face and trying to collect his thoughts.

“Who knows?”

“No one. When someone dies, I’m at my weakest. I couldn’t afford to tell anyone in case it would be used against me - good thing too with the way L’manburg’s working out.”

“But that doesn’t explain why I can see them.”

“True. That I don’t exactly have an answer for - beyond the little I’ve gathered today. I suspect your features,” Dream paused gesturing towards Erets eyes, “make you extra sensitive to the spirits. The reason you can see them now is because you and your little broken family decided to destroy the natural order of things bringing Wilbur back. I mean ghosts are stronger, people being overcome with panic attacks about deaths that happened years ago. Fundy was close to tears, and Karl’s come the closest I’ve ever seen him to actually hurting someone. It's your mess, so you’re going to help me fix it.”

Eret brought their hand up to their face, seemingly deep in thought. The only reason Dream even knew that he’d been listening is because his gaze was loosely fixed on him.

Intent to leave Eret to his thoughts for the night, Dream practically collapsed on the bed. The blankets were scratchy and the pillow was flat, but for right now it felt like the most comfortable thing he’d ever laid on. Tomorrow they’d have to clear out the main ravine of Pogtopia which was no doubt crawling with spiders and skeletons, but for now he deserved rest. It wasn’t easy being the target of the server’s wrath.

But as Dream attempted to drift off to sleep, all he could feel was a set of eyes burning a hole in his back. Rolling back over to look at the fallen king, Dream glared.

“What do you want,” the admin asked with a yawn, propping himself up on his hand.

“How did you-”

“I’ve become very good at honing in when people are watching me. It’s a good survival skill.”

Eret shifted for a moment, attempting to disguise discomfort at being so directly caught. It wasn’t a shock that she had been scared of Dream - most people were. Still, after her little display earlier Dream had half worried that the fear had been lost but it seemed perhaps there were some parts of it left rooted in her.  _ Good. _

“I just don’t get how you can do it. Keep it all to yourself.”

The godling gave a huff of annoyance, seemingly irritated by the simple question.

“Like I said. Sharing it would be a weakness, something I can’t afford.”

“Right. But don’t you get lonely? I mean I had thought you, Sapnap and George were close but clearly you don’t feel like you can trust them.”

Silence lapsed again, but this time Dream bared the weight of it as Eret watched him curiously.

Clearing his throat, Dream sat up.

“Well clearly I was right to, he just attacked me.”

“No he didn't, a ghost version of him did.”

Silence again.

“I think you’re looking for an excuse, I think you’re scared-”

“ _ What.” _

The lack of mocking in Eret’s tone didn’t help Dream take it any better. The comment caused his head to snap up and stare him down - but she met the gaze unflinchingly. After all, Eret did say he wanted answers. 

“You’ve lived a long time Dream. We all know that. I think you learned it better to be porcelain than to be human. Hurts less. By Prime, I know how it is,” she said furrowing her brows for a moment. It was clear she was trying to show compassion despite everything that had been done and said. Dream couldn’t decide whether that was foolish or weak - perhaps both. 

“We are not the same your highness, don’t pretend we are. Everyone abandoned you because you’re a spineless traitor. You didn’t give them all away because you wanted to end the war - you did it because you wanted a shiny crown. You’re selfish and you paid for it. Do not compare us. I’m alone because I know bearing the weight of leading and protecting is best done alone.”

“Leading and protecting? Is that what you call it? Because if it is you’re pretty shit. How many wars and murders have you watched? How many festival turned assassinations have you allowed to be planned? Don’t you dare preach to me about being selfish when the only reason you do all this is to have power. I don’t even know why you bother lying anymore. You’re the villain behind all villains Dream. You’re the root of all evil - all problems. Might as well admit it.”

“Fine. You’re right. I do enjoy the power. But at least I’m not pretentious enough to beg for redemption while not giving up the very thing that would actually allow for it. You know what you are, your highness? You’re honeyed words. But that’s it. You never do anything to repair the harm you did.”

“I gave up my crown!”

“Years after receiving it. Too little too late.”

“What do you want from me Dream. If I don’t give up my crown I’m your little pawn, and if I do it's ‘too little too late.’ If I go with my friends you’ll hurt me and them, and if I stay with you I’m a spineless coward.”

“Welcome to the world Eret. I’m glad someone could join me. There’s no winning. Just be glad you get to die and escape it.”

Finally silence spanned again. Words that had been sharpened and thrown like daggers finally were sheathed. The two men stared at one another, White eyes meeting Green eyes - both with unreadable expressions behind them. All that could be heard was breathing and the crackling of the lone torch. 

It suddenly became clear neither person knew what to say now. Eret practically begged for a path to be led down, and Dream admitting he hated the life he led. For the third time that day emotions were on display like they never had been for either person. Perhaps it was because the pair was all too similar in the wrong ways. In their loneliness. In their ambition. In their reckless attempts to do what they thought was right, no matter how twisted it was. Maybe it was because when Dream looked into Eret’s eyes he only saw a reflection of his own pain. 

“We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow,” the admin said finally. He turned back over and blew out the torch. Muffled, he heard Eret shuffle around and place a bed down and eventually sleep took them - allowing a brief reprieve before the next day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Also ignore the slight homoeroticism in the fighting, I don't know how that got there. Maybe its because I'm tired, who knows. Anyways, comment thoughts, opinions, and feelings - I'd love to hear them!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I plan on continuing it, but I would love to hear your opinions, thoughts, and predictions! When I was writing this I felt the pacing was a bit fast but I did want to get into the main part of the plot - also how is the chapter length? Feel free to let me know!


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